Fiery Ice
by Around the World and Back
Summary: Harry's summer has been worst then the last. After being beat, abused and left unconscious Harry is found by the least person likely in the world: Voldemort. And he plans to make Harry his knight. And Harry agrees. Takes place after 4th year. R&R
1. Red Eyes

**Title: **Fiery Ice

**Summary:** Harry's summer has been worst then the last. After being beat, abused and left unconscious Harry is found by the least person likely in the world: Voldemort. And he plans to make Harry his knight. And Harry agrees. Takes place after 4th year. R&R

**Rating: **Rated M for violence and language. First chapters could be T.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own J.K. Rowlings awesome imagination, though I wish I did. This story is purely just my imagination, and I own only my daydreams. This disclaimer goes with the whole story.

**A/N: And here I am with a new story! This idea wouldn't stop nagging me, so I had to write it. I'm not very proud of the title; I called it Fiery Ice because it Fire and Ice can be painful but..um..enjoyable? Okay I'm awful at titles. If you have a better suggestion I'd love to hear it! Also, I'm going to tell you right now, I tend to ramble on about pointless things which have nothing to do with the story in any way in my author notes, so feel free to skip them. Of course, I love it when people read and respond to them, but totally not necessary. Unless I put 'Read me', then you should read. Alright, without further ado, Fiery Ice. Hope you like it!**

Harry stared out the window in a desperate, dreamy hope.

His summer had been a living hell. Two weeks, two more weeks, he kept reassuring himself. He could almost see Hogwarts now, with its grand walls and talking portraits. He missed it. He missed the passageways, he missed the great-feasts, he missed the dorms, he missed Hogsmeade, heck, and he even missed the Fat Lady. But most of all, he missed his friends.

His friends. The thought of them brought mixed emotions. He wanted to be angry. Two letters. Just two letters all summer. Not even asking about him, not even caring. But the thought of them made his stomach turn. No matter what, no matter the obnoxiousness of their letters, he still couldn't help it. His angriness vanished at the thought of them, Hermonie nagging him to get on his homework, Ron nagging at Hermonie to be quiet.

And then his mind couldn't clear. Every night he'd see it again. Cedric, motionless. Voldemort rising from the cauldron, alive. _Kill the spare_. The words rang again and again. Voldemort was back. Cedric was dead. The sight was permantley etched into his brain, haunting him continually.

If he made too much noise, for he would wake up screaming, his uncle would wake up. That was another thing; his uncle. Ever since his fourth year he'd been getting more and more aggressive. His uncle was never compassionate, no. But since his first year at Hogwarts, each year gradually got worse. One tiny display of abnormality, one little mention of magic would equal in a few weeks of pain.

A few weeks ago had been the breaking point. His uncle had walked in the front door, and slammed it tight. Harry could hear his voice project throughout the house. 'Where is that boy! I'll teach him to mess with me'. And Harry knew what was coming next.

Instinctively, he put his hands in front of his face, expecting to feel the pain of the whip shoot across him. But nothing came. Instead he felt metal chains around his arms and his legs. His uncle shot him an evil glare.

'You can't escape now!' He bellowed. 'You can't use you're freaky magic or sneak anything! You're permantely stuck up here! And if you try anything, I swear, I'll stick you six feet under alive!'

Harry had looked with pure terror. His uncle had attached shackles on him, attached to the metal rim of his bed. He didn't dare try anything with his uncle staring at him, so he gulped and sheepishly nodded his head in understanding.

His uncle slammed his door shut, reattached the 8 locks looming on his door, and spoke so venomously he could feel it seeping through the door. 'I know you had something to do with this, with your abnormalness. No meals for 3 days!'

And oddly, he was thankful. There was no whip, no pain. Three days without food; he could live with that; they had done worse. Though the shackles were going to drive him nuts he'd manage; it's not like he had any desire to attempt squeezing through the bars of his window or unlocking the 8 bolts on his door.

But hell got worse.

His uncle's abuse was more severe, more painful. He'd use what he could find to beat him now. The whip seemed more like a prize this time around. He'd use a plug most of the time. Sometimes a tazer, leaving Harry numb in pain for a few hours. The worst was the razors, which dug into his skin and left ugly marks, pulling up fresh patches of blood. At this point Harry was sure he was looking more like an ugly creature rather than human. So skinny you could see bone, so bruised and tattered it looked like his official skin, never being tan before. He shared whatever he got with Hedwig; they fed him a soup can each day. He'd pluck out some meat or vegetables or noodles and give it to the owl. He always left some water in it for her as well. They were both on the brink of starvation. Harry wish desperately he could release her, allow her to escape. He could handle his own pain, but watching the owl suffer too was awful. He prayed his owl would be quiet; because if she didn't he feared what might happen to her.

Today it seemed that his uncle was in an extremely bad mood, and Harry knew right away he would be blamed and punished for it. His uncle huffed like a giant oaf up the stairs, red in the face, apparently to upset (or to out of breath from the amount of exercise) to say anything. His chubby hands shaked as he fumbled with the locks and one by one the unhitched. He pulled the door open, his eyes like poison glaring so deeply.

"You!" He hissed. "You! I've had enough of you! You and your freaky antics. Well today I'll teach you better. You think you can get away with this can you? CAN YOU? Well you're wrong! Because of you I got demoted! Now it's time to get the message across boy. I've been too merciful. The money we lost, will come out of your food money! You'll be lucky if you get crumbs a week!" Uncle Vernon ranted, the smell of alcohol high on his breath. Harry found himself afraid. His bruises were healing up on their own, the scratches clearing up, and know they would all reappear.

At the sight of his nephew in pure terror, Vernon let slip an evil grin. "What punishment do you think suitable this time, boy? Perhaps the razor? Or the tazor?" He grinned maliciously back down at Harry, like predator at prey.

"Please." He croaked, feeling weary at the thought of more pain. "Please no."

This only seemed to fuel his Uncle's desire. He whipped something out of his pocket and in an instant out were his weapons. His uncle played with the whip at first then brought it down on his back. Pain coursed through his body causing Harry to screech in pain. One…two..it continued. His whole back ached beyond repair, trying to numb itself. 'Perhaps a combination?' His uncle Vernon said, not even bothering to keep the hatred yet enjoyment out of his voice.

Harry tried again. "Please, Uncle Vernon. Please, I swear I didn't do anything. I swear." He pleaded.

"Didn't do ANYTHING!" His uncle shouted. "Don't lie to me boy, you'll only make it worse!"

Harry knew he didn't actually do anything, but shut up. He held back his tears of pain, refusing to give his uncle that satisfaction. He could hear the tazor start up, the electricity making a static noise. As sure enough, felt it run through him. It stung him, heating up and burning his skin. He felt his insides sting, leaving an imprint, a fresh patch of burnt skin on his back. His uncle laughed at his pain. It kept repeating, and eventually Harry began to muffle the desire to scream. At that point, his uncle lifted him up from the floor by his collar, and slammed him against the only wall accessible due to the shackles. The razor was positioned at his belly. Harry looked straight into his uncle's eyes, those bitter, hateful eyes.

"Listen, you spawn of the devil. You lost my family money. You don't belong here, nor on Earth. You're a burden to everyone, no better than an insect. If you, you do anything like that again it will be worse. It might be your precious owl, or perhaps yourself, understand?" Harry nodded, truly feeling afraid of his uncle. He knew he spoke nothing of the truth. He could smell the alcohol on his uncle's breath so strong it made him want to barf.

His uncle released but not without a swish of the razor and slap in his face. Harry clutched his stomach, feeling blood ooze out. His used his free hand to press down on the sting on his cheek. He couldn't help it; he screeched again, causing his uncle to laugh. His uncle left then, and slammed the door shout. He could hear Dudley pleading to Petunia ('But mum! I wanted to see it!' 'Next time, dear)

Harry lay alone, feel unconsciousness approaching. His owl gave a small hoot, and Harry thought he was crazy for he could hear a bit of concern in it. Anger shook his body. He wanted to see it? Was he no more than an amusement park? Was getting beat up to the verge of being dead fun to see to them? He swore at them, wanting to kick something, but in far too weak of state too.

It hurt everywhere, to the point of being sick. Harry felt something hot and sticky rising up his throat and escape his lips, and saw the color of red reflect on the ground in the moonlight. It felt like a million jellyfish were latching onto him, stinging him. It was better to die here, he thought. His friends didn't even care, did they? They expressed it through their letters.

Why should they? What would they think of him? Famous Harry Potter, stood up to Voldemort multiple times, cheated death, beaten up and abused by his muggle uncle? He was weak. He had had his wand ripped away from him, hadn't even put up a fight as he was chained and beaten. If he did, what would he get? More beatings. Magic would expel him from Hogwarts, probably get him in trouble with the ministry, god knowing they wanted to arrest him now since the Voldemort ideal. They would laugh at him, that's what. Dumbledore would be ashamed, so would Sirius. They all would claim they thought he was stronger. That he was supposed to act like the Boy-who-lived. They'd give up hope on him. How could he let them down? That's why he kept it hidden all this time.

Dumbledore kept him here for safety. He said it was his only home. But it wasn't. It was a prison. Harry's last thought before his slipped onto unconsciousness was

_This isn't my home. _

**_iii_**

Harry woke to a racket. It sounded like a metal clinging and a tad bit of shouting, so faint though that he couldn't make out the words being said.

Pain pierced his scar, and he managed to muffle his cry. On instinct, Harry flew his hand to his forehead. The pain was so strong this time, it felt like no other. Like the scar was seeping through his skull and pressing on his brain.

Then he heard it; something he could not mistake for anything in the world. The laugh. The laugh of Voldemort.

He's here. The truth struck him so hard, he thought it was actually added to his mountain of pain. But he can't be. He couldn't be. He was safe here, Dumbledore told him. Voldemort could not visit.

He opened his eyes, slowly, expecting to see the empty boring room. Expecting it all to be another nightmare, another vision, something. But instead he saw the most terrifying thing that night; piercing, red eyes looking down at him.

**A/N: What is Voldemort doing there? How could he get through? The answers will be revealed in the next chapter; so stay tuned! So, what do you think? Good? Bad? Downright awful? Tell me what you think! I'd love some reviews; especially constructive criticism. I have the first 9 chapters** **written, so the more reviews I get, the more motivation I get to update! Also, if I see I got 60 reviews and no reviews I'll turn into the Forever Alone guy. You don't want that, do you? I thought not *prods button***


	2. The Deal

**A/N: Wow! I got lots of story alerts and favorite stories, and 5 reviews. Thank you(: I'd still like some more reviews (I can't help it; I'm review greedy!), though. I love getting feed back. Also, if you have any suggestions for where the story should go, go ahead and tell me! I like to let my readers play apart in my story. Okay, I'll be quiet. Without further ado, Chapter 2!**

_Chapter Two: The Deal_

He gasped, shooting up from the floor and trying to grab his wand.

But it wasn't there, of course. The Dursleys had locked it up with all the other magical things he had gotten. They had even discovered his hiding places, under his bed and floorboards, and stripped him of that. He mentally cursed them. If he was to die it would be all their fault.

Voldemort was guarded by only 3 of his Death Eaters, one of them being a girl. All of them wore their masks and in the dark room, Harry could not identify them.

Harry put on his most intimidating face he could muster, though he knew it failed. Here he was, after his punishment, no protection, without magic, weak and hurt. All he could hope for know was that Voldemort would make his death quick.

Voldemort gave him an evil smile. "Why, why, what do we have here? I expected to see Harry Potter, but instead I meet this weak creature." The death eaters automatically laughed, the female one giving a little clap. Harry didn't budge, though partially due to his shackles. "Relax, I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to make a deal."

This immediately caught Harry's attention. Voldemort with a deal? Perhaps he _was_ dreaming. But his scar was aching too bad for him to consider this. He knew it was real. He also knew this deal meant trouble. He assumed Voldemort wanted him to kill Dumbledore or someone he knew, and Harry would refuse and die. So what? He'd rather die anyway then betray his friends.

"How are the muggles treating you, hmm? I can see they care very little about you." He chatted, straying away from the deal. Harry noticed his eyes glinted darkly as he said this. "What about your friends? I assume they've sent you letters?" Harry knew this was a question to be answered, and proudly he nodded, not lying. "Oh, and I assume they know about this, huh? I assume they all are coming over here to get you? Caring deeply about you?"

The words did sting Harry, worse then the pain._ No, they didn't_. They didn't know about the abuse, and they weren't going to come. And they were sure acting like they didn't care. He thought that as soon as he read their letters.

_Dear Harry,_

_How the muggles treating you? Everything over here is bloody brilliant. Fred and George inventing new pranks, Bill and Charlie coming over for dinner, Ginny being…Ginny, and Percy being a giant git (but what do you expect?). The media's been hammering us merciless, but it's not so bad. We've gotten in multiple newspapers, and so has Hermonie. But what can you expect, being the best friend of Harry Potter, huh? I think we're all really enjoying the attention. Dad even got a raise at the ministry! All he had to do was say a few things about you, and bam, new wands for all of us! Don't take it personal mate, just money, right?_

_See you at Hogwarts!_

_-Ron_

Not one word asked about him. Not one word about how he was holding up after he saw Cedric die. Not one word asking him if he was okay, or if he wanted to stay over. It was all about how HE was doing, and Harry felt a ping of jealousy._ I'm glad you're having fun selling me to the media well I'm chained up_, he had thought bitterly. Hermonie's letter had been no better.

_Dear Harry,_

_Can you believe it? We're going to get to go to Canada! I'm taking Ron with me, hope you don't mind. I would take you be the trip I one only allowed me to take my parents and 1 friend, and I picked him. I figured you were okay over there at the muggles, I mean it's not like you're locked up in a cupboard anymore. I won the trip by writing a report for a muggle competition. I might even be able to pick up sovenier robes there with Ron, you know with all the money we're earning from the Media. I know you hate the Daily Prophet but they can be really rewarding and nice if you allow them to ask you questions. Well, I got to go pack. Can't wait!_

_-Hermonie._

Once again, left in the dust. He felt his eyes bulging as he read it. Jealously and betrayal overwhelmed him again when he had gotten it. He couldn't believe it, his friends leaving him behind, selling him for new robes and trips. If he hadn't seen the letter personally signed by Hermonie he wouldn't have believed it.

And that was it. No more letters, from anyone. Not even Sirius, which hurt him the most. Sirius was supposed to help him, they were going to live together. But he left him.

He wanted to rip the letters in half, in tiny, tiny pieces, throw them up in the air like confetti and stomp on it. How could they? How could they disregard him like an object? Was that the only reason they were friends with him was for fame? Did they really not care about him at all? But as much as he wanted to, he fought the desire, purely because, no matter the brutal words above, seeing their signatures was too refreshing.

When he didn't answer Voldemort continued on. "That's why I'm here Harry. I can offer you protection. You'll never have to deal with these Muggles again, never have to deal with pain or betrayal. You'll be able to be powerful; more powerful then you've ever been. You won't deal with any more heart-breaks. You'll be able to show them all. For nothing in return. Just join me." Voldemort extended a hand, as if to finalize the deal.

He, at first, looked at the hand with utter disgust. This man; no, this creature, killed his parents. This monster was the reason he was stuck here. He wanted nothing more to see Harry buried there with his Mother and Father, with the Weasleys and the Grangers. He wanted to harm his friends, his only parent figures. He wanted to hurt anyone who didn't follow him. And he expected him to join his side?

But then something hit him, like a tidal wave. Harry couldn't quite describe it; the feelings coming over him. It overpowered him, washing away his doubts and feelings, till he was left with two: Temptation and power. Why should he care? Why should he give a damn about his friends? They obviously didn't care about him enough to send him messages. The two people he trusted sold his life to the Daily Prophet. His only family beat him and chained him, like he wasn't human. The only people he considered family betrayed his trust. He was left with a feeling of utmost desire, utmost evil. They didn't care about him, so why should he?

With his left hand, he shook Voldemort's. Voldemort grin turned maniac, the evil glint shining like never before. "Bella, Lucius, unchain him." He ordered. The two in the back immediately worked their wands and the chains fell.

Unfortunately, they fell with a large metal clank on the ground be for they disappeared to dust. And in a matter of seconds, his uncles voice was bellowing through the house, he large feet banging against the stairs.

Voldemort acted as if nothing had happened. He turned to the other death-eater, definitely the fattest of the three. "Goyle, collect anything the boy needs. You know where to look." Goyle nodded, then faded into black dust and swerved out the bars and out the window.

His uncle slammed through the door, barking insults as he did. "What's all the noise? Some of us like to sleep you idiot boy!"

His uncle froze immediately at the sight. His eyes first fell to Harry, his pig face turning a darker shade of red as he noticed Harry was free of his chains. Then they fell to the death eaters, hidden in shadows and masks, and then Voldemort. Harry smiled inwardly as his uncle gave a gasp, but then quickly regained.

"You! You let your freak friends in my house, and let them help you escape! I'll call the police on you, you abnormalities. And oh, you boy, you better hope I'll be merciful, because you'll never see the sun again!"

The girl shrieked. "How dare you, you filthy muggle! How dare you speak to the Dark Lord in such rudeness! You should be bowing down, you-"

Voldemort raised a hand and the girl called Bella quieted. "I don't have time for this." He said, in an annoyed voice. He raised his wand, too much delight to Bella, and said. "Avada Kedv-"

"STOP!" Shouted Harry, on instinct, and to his surprise Voldemort listened. He hated his uncle beyond repair, but to see him dead? He didn't want to, even though he did despise him.

But then the tidal wave came again, this time on his own accord. This man beat him, cut him, electrocuted him, blamed him, for no good reason. He couldn't care less about Harry. This man would laugh and dance, and celebrate Harry's death. This man turned Harry's life to hell. This man caused Harry's pain; his bruises and cuts on his torso reminded him of that.

So, he turned to Voldemort, his sworn enemy. "It would leave behind too much evidence," He explained. "I think crucio would do nicely." He said, shooting his uncle an evil glare, inwardly smiling. He saw fear project in his uncles eyes and Harry hissed to his uncle. "Let's see how you like it."

Harry didn't think he'd ever seen Voldemort grin as hard as he did then. There was something truly terrifying about it. With a flick of his wand Voldemort hissed the word '_Crucio'_ and his uncles screams echoed throughout the hallways.

Bella squealed with delight, laughing evilly. "Oh I love muggle torture! Do it again!" She begged, like a little child.

"We can't." Malfoy said. "The ministry will have detected an underage wizard where magic was used and marked it on Harry. We need to leave as soon as possible, my lord." He stated, adding a bow.

"Malfoy is correct, we must leave now." Voldemort agreed. Goyle appeared then with all of Harry's magic supplies. "I don't assume Harry has learned how to sière, so Bella." He signaled.

"Of course, my lord." She said, walking towards Harry.

"Harry, release your owl." Voldemort ordered. Harry didn't object, glad Hedwig would finally be able to fly. But as soon as he did, Hedwig hooted at him, nipped his finger affectionately, and flew threw the bars out in the night without Harry.

Before he could call out to her, they were on their way. It was the most bizarre feeling. Harry felt like he was being released, a great wave of freedom coming of him. It felt like his insides flew free, like he was no more then a mere piece of paper adrift in the wind. Before he could note anything, he was solid again.

He looked at were he was. It was a huge manor, a bit run down and dark.

"Harry, this is Riddle Manor."

**A/N: Harry! What are you doing? What's with his feelings? All to be explained, my dear reader *mysterious laugh* I would love some more reviews! The more reviews I get, the more motivation, and the faster I'll get out the next chapter. Just click the button below**


	3. Not a Home

**A/N: Happy New Year everyone! So what's your resolution? Mine's to practice singing some more. Well, without further ado, Chapter 3!**

_Chapter 3: Not a Home_

Ron appropriately moved his bishop only to have it stripped from Hermonie by a pawn. Hermonie smirked.

"Oh forget this! This is the third time you beat me!" He crossed his arms. "Let's play something easier; like checkers."

Hermonie raised an eyebrow. "They have wizard checkers?"

Ron cocked his head. "'Course not. It's just a muggle game I like."

Hermonie shrugged. "It's a bit simple. How about battleship?"

"That's the whole point! And what's battleship?"

Before they could continue on, Ron's bird Pigweadon fluttered in to the room, circling around it, hooting.

"Shut up you bloody bird!" Ron cursed at his tiny owl Pigweadon. Instead of listening, Ron could have sworn the little owl speed up and start hooting more loudly.

He rubbed his temples. Another letter not responded to. This was the 6th one so far. Hermonie and him had been trying desperately to contact Harry, but every-time they sent out a letter, back came Pig, no response attached, desperately trying to get their attention. It would fly around and hoot, but this for once not in an excited way.

Of course, being Ron, he didn't notice.

Even one time they decided to try calling, and searched the house for a 'felly-fone', but discovered in defeat the Grimmauld Place didn't have one.

"It's those muggles!" Ron would complain. "They're keeping him locked up!"

Ron and Hermonie would urge the adults to let Harry come to the Grimmauld Place, getting a bit worried by the no responses. Finally, the adults agreed it was far enough in summer to pick up Harry. They had it all planned; they would pick him up in the afternoon that day.

But that would never happen.

"Ron, you should be nicer to your bird." Hermonie said, stroking the top of its head. It hooted in delight.

"Yeah, yeah," He muttered, snapping back to reality. He looked out the window, and was shocked to see a tiny blob heading towards their window. He was about to shout, when he noticed it was white. "Hedwig!" He shouted at the bird, unlocking the window to let her in. Excitedly, he checked her claws, but no letter was attached.

"What's she doing here?" Hermonie muttered, curiously looking at the bird. Hedwig, a bit older bird, didn't join in with Pig in the flying, but instead began to hoot. "You think they're trying to tell us something?" She asked Ron.

Ron shrugged. "How could they? They're birds. Come on let's go tell Mum."

They made their way out but was stopped by George.

"Hush! It's another order meeting, and Mum forgot to turn on Mufflito." He told them. Quickly, they followed him to the staircase, and leaned down on the railing, listening to the Extendable Ear.

_Another_ order meeting. The order seemed to be having a lot of them lately. Being 'too young and immature' to actually be invited to an order meeting, the group took advantage of whenever Mrs. Weasley forgot to seal the door with the charm, and listened in.

"Just talking about some boring Ministry thing." Fred yawned, handing the ear to the others. They anxiously took it.

With a slam audible without the ear, they distinctly heard that it was their father.

"What's he doing back so early?" Ginny asked, more to herself. Their father had left early that morning, and wasn't expected to be back till supper.

Fred took the ear back and listened.

"Molly, something happened at the Dursley's." He said, his worry quite obvious.

Fred nearly dropped the ear. Quickly grasping he turned up the volume. "It's Harry." He explained. The group gasped, and leaned in closer, desperate to hear about their friend.

"What? What happened?" This time it was Sirius. He didn't bother holding his shock and worry from his voice.

"The ministry is after him. Last night at 1 am," He paused, as if he couldn't speak the words. "The crucio curse was used."

This time the group wasn't the only ones to gasp.

"Oh no. Is Harry alright? Please tell me he's alright?" Molly's voice echoed.

Arthur didn't respond. "The ministry is blaming it on Harry." He said.

"What! But Harry would never do anything like that-"

"It was used on his uncle."

He spoke so softly even on full blast it was still a whisper. A hand banged on the table.

"That's nonsense! Harry would never do such a thing, but the Ministry's been known for fake assumptions," Said Sirius bitterly, refusing to believe his godson would perform an unforgivable.

"They went there last night," Arthur continued. "And Harry wasn't there. Neither were any of his things. It seems pretty fishy."

"Arthur, you honestly can't be saying that Harry did all this-"

"I'm not saying anything; I'm just saying it looks suspicious." Rang Arthur's weary voice.

"But Harry's just a boy! I can't imagine him doing anything like this!" Molly defended, the clank of pots and pans getting louder.

Sirius was being awfully quiet. "It was death-eaters. Oh god, Harry's been kidnapped by death-eaters and I didn't do anything! If only I had gotten him out quick enough, if only. It's all my fault!" Sirius moaned, guilt written all over his voice.

"Sirius it wasn't your fault. Besides there's been no signs of death-eaters at all. There was no trace of any dark magic, nor struggle, nor dark mark. It looks as if Harry left on his own accord." Arthur explained. There were many protests caused by this, and defenses for Harry's case, including by Ron, Ginny, Fred, George, and even Hermonie.

Moody came to their rescue. "Villains can work in very peculiar ways. They might have diminished all evidence so that you all suspect Harry did leave on his own accord, when really he could be kidnapped-"

"Oh this is nonsense! I'm going to the Dursley's on my own and investigate for MYSELF!" Molly snapped, slamming down what sounded to be a carton of juice.

"But, dear-"Arthur started, but was stopped before he even began.

"No! I can't believe you actually think the Ministry's reports are accurate. Now if you excuse me, I have to go tell the kids that breakfast is ready." She said icily.

"Pull the chord up!" George whispered frantically. They quickly pulled it up and rushed into their rooms, as their mother stormed out.

"Children, breakfast is ready!" She shouted, putting on her fake sugar-coated voice.

They walked out of their bedrooms, looking at one another. It was clear what was running through their heads, and it shook them up bad. Harry; it was impossible. They knew their friend, no matter how cruel it was to be locked in a cupboard, would never dream of using an unforgivable on his uncle.

Breakfast was awkward. Sirius had his face in his hands, not touching his food, and barely making an effort to look okay. Moody was brain-storming, his one eye examining everyone in the room, but his other looking deep in thought. Tonks, never having met Harry, looked generally confused but ate like nothing had happened. Their father looked weary and tired, only opening his mouth on occasion for a forkful of eggs. And their mum was quite perhaps the scariest of all; she had on a fake smile, like the ones she gave the family before yelling her voice out at Fred and George for some new prank.

It was quiet. The awkward silence filled the room. The kids did their best to look perfectly innocent, dishing out on their breakfast, but worry kept etching onto their faces.

Finally Arthur turned to them. "Kids, I think there is something we ought to tell you."

Molly dropped her fake smile. "Arthur, you better not-"

"Listen, he's their friend. They deserve to know." He stated back. They all knew what was coming, but put on poker faces.

"Oh, alright, I suppose so." She huffed in defeat, and fumbled with her glass.

"Today, something happened on Privet Drive-"

They looked at each other. They didn't want the adults to know they had been ease-dropping, but at the same time they didn't want to hear it all over again.

"Look, mum, dad, we know." Ron said, earning two slaps in the arms by Fred and George.

"You know?" His dad responded, looking shocked.

Ron nodded. "We were listening in on the extendable ears..." Two more slaps. "And I honestly don't think Harry did it."

"Nor do I." Hermonie added.

"Yeah, me either." Ginny piped up, a sad glint in her eye.

"We too!"Fred and George agreed.

"Yeah, and when are we going to start looking for him?" Ron asked.

"Looking for him?" Arthur said, looking at his kids.

"Yes! You don't think we're going to let him be out there, where ever he is?" Ron said, heating up.

"Of course not! But you're not going!" Arthur argued.

He earned many angry protests at this.

"NOT going? But he's my best mate!"

"I'm going whether you like it or not!"

"WE could be very useful, seeing as we know Harry..."

"Honestly, we'll do a better job than that filthy Ministry!"

"Quiet!" Their father bellowed. "This search will be purely the order, and no objections!" His father said, leaving the group to sigh heatedly. After a few moments of silence, Ron spoke again.

"Hedwig appeared today." He spoke, poking around the eggs on his plate.

"Hedwig?" He father murmured. "That's very interesting, thank you for telling me Ron."

The rest of the breakfast was sat in a silence, perhaps more awkward then the first.

Afterwards, their father continued to go to work. Their mum began to try to clean up the house, but not before confiscating their extendable ear ('Thanks a lot Ron! You're lucky we have a spare' the twins had complained).

Ron was in deep worry by this point, Hermonie as well.

"I can't believe- I mean Dumbledore told us that Harry was safe there! That's why we waited! If we would have just picked him up a day earlier, he'd be here and not wherever he is!" Hermonie ranted. As soon as she sat down, she burst into tears.

Ron, never being good with girls, attempted to comfort her. He sat down by her and put his arm around her.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be crying." She hiccupped through her sobs. "It's just, what if he's not okay? What if he's injured? Or what if he's…" The words went un-spoken, but haunted the room.

What if he's dead?

They shook the thoughts out of their heads. Harry was strong, stronger than anyone they knew. He'd fight back. "I'm sure he's fine, and I'm over-reacting." She said watery, and wiped away her tears.

The two looked at each other, still in the embrace, before Ron removed his arm embarrassed. He turned scarlet red, and Hermonie would have laughed kindly at the sight if she hadn't been so embarrassed herself.

She got up. "I better go talk to Ginny. I bet she's not taking this too nicely," She told, and they both knew the meaning behind the words.

The two friends parted, still wondering the same question:

_Was Harry okay?_

**_iiiiii_**

Dumbledore was informed of Harry's disappearance before a very weary and worried-looking Arthur Weasley came into his office.

"Hello, Mr. Weasley. Sit down, please." Dumbledore said, his usual twinkle in his eye. The man did as instructed. "And may I ask why you're here?" He asked politely.

"Sir, it's Harry-" Arthur began. Dumbledore raised his hand, a bit of the twinkle fading.

"Yes, I am completely aware of the situation." He informed. The man looked a bit at ease. "I have already visited the Dursley's. It seems they know little of the situation." He explained. He remembered what had happened just a few hours before the man arrived.

_It was early in the afternoon, about lunchtime. Dumbledore had just been informed of Harry's disappearance. Though he would never show it, it worried the old man. Not even Voldemort could break through the barrier that was on the Dursley's house. So, it was impossible that Voldemort or any death eater could have forced Harry out. Yet he couldn't see Harry, a boy such as him, inflicting such heartlessness on even his Uncle. Harry could escape, that was logical, but the fact that a crucio had been used was what threw him off. _

_He walked through the streets of Privet Drive and knocked on the one he recognized to be Harry's. _

_A rather skinny-looking woman opened up the door. She reminded him greatly of a falcon. Her eyes pierced and examined him and her face turned from to pleasant instantly into icy cold. "We don't want any more of your kind, so leave now before I call the cops!' She shouted, though her voice was wavy, and not very convincing._

_"I'm sorry, but I have no intention to leave, and I highly doubt the police will have any effect on me, anyhow, so if you may be so kind." He said, in a not so threatening tone. But Petunia caught the message. _

_She glared at him, but opened the door._

_"What do you want? Haven't you caused enough harm already, you and your lot?" She hissed, shutting the blinds so the neighbors wouldn't see. _

_This caught his attention. "Can you explain what you mean?"_

_"Don't pretend like you don't know!" She shouted. "You, you and your lot. Inflicted such pain on my innocent hubby; that evil boy; I swear he'll pay!" _

_Though what she said intrigued him it held no further information. "I'm sorry; I didn't introduce myself. My name is Dumbledore, and I am headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am presented here because to my knowledge, one of my students, Harry Potter, has gone missing."_

_"Your damn right he has! The ungrateful twit!" She shouted. Dumbledore was momentarily shocked that they could care so little that the boy they brought up was missing, but he shook it off._

_He spoke again, this time a bit more rough, but still posing no immediate meanness. "Mrs. Dursley, I need you to tell me exactly what happened last night, at 1 am." He stated._

_Petunia huffed. "I'll tell you what happened. Me and my family were sleeping peacefully when the boy started making a ruckus so loud it could wake up the whole neighborhood. So, my poor, innocent, husband goes up to investigate, and next thing I hear is him screeching," She took a tissue out of her purse and wiped her eyes, sniffling quietly. "He was in such pain when me and my Dudders found him. I'll never forget. I looked in the boy's room," She said, her voice hardening. "And he wasn't there. Neither is that damn owl of his. I took my husband to the hospital, and they couldn't find anything wrong with him. Just pain. Then I knew, then I knew. It was the boys abnormality. His powers. Couldn't take us being so merciful, had to abuse our hospitality. I swear when I see him-"_

_"Thank you for the information. Now think, could you hear anything before your husband was hurt? Anything at all?"_

_She looked at him. "Just the boy, shouting, and a few other voices as well." She shook her head. "Got his friends in the act, I suspect." Mrs. Dursley said, sniffing again. The poor woman looked so miserable, Dumbledore almost would have felt sorry for her if she wasn't responsible for Harry dreading summers._

_Dumbledore nodded. "May I inspect the room?" He asked her politely, planning to do so anyway._

_She glanced up at him, as if she had forgotten he was there. She glared. "Do whatever you want with it, then get out of my house." She hissed._

_Dumbledore sighed and walked up the stairs. When he reached the door, he was disturbed. Eight locks. He couldn't believe they would place eight locks to keep such a young boy trapped._

_He was even more haunted by the sight of the room. It looked completely normal, the bed tidied up, nothing broken, shattered, or scratched. But there were bars on the window. _

_Immediately, he felt guilty. It was no wonder Harry had hated going back to this house. He had thought they had treated him with at least some compassion, but it was not evident in the room, nor in Petunia's voice. He had sworn, when they found Harry, he'd look into getting him in a better home. He'd try to make up for the years spent in here._

_He examined the room, but nothing was out of ordinary. The ministry was right; no signs of struggle, nor evidence. There was no way he could pluck any information from here. _

_He shut the door and walked down the stairs. Before he left, he turned the cruel looking woman. "Thank you." He said, but this time without the normal politeness._

He finished up explaining all the information he had plucked, leaving out the part about the cagement. There was no need to worry them about it at this time.

Arthur shook his head. "I just don't get it. Harry would never do something like that, yet You-Know-Who could never get in. It's all so confusing."

Dumbledore nodded his head in agreement. "I do have a lead however. The house is only safe as long as Harry considers it home. If something drastic happened, something that upset Harry beyond forgiveness, and he vowed that the Dursleys were not his relatives, nor his home, he'd break the love barrier guarding it, therefore allowing Voldemort in." He finished. Arthur looked mortified.

"Nothing to that extent could have caused Harry to do that. He knows the dangers. And the Dursleys are awful people, but I can't imagine anything they could have done to cause such bitter hate,"

Dumbledore shook his head. He figured now would be the time to tell him. He sighed. "I visited Harry's room. They were caging the boy; he had bars on his window and eight locks on the door."

Arthur took a moment to process then looked outrage. "They. What?" Dumbledore nodded in understanding. "They locked the boy in his room, all summer?" He looked about ready to punch someone, or for that matter, the Dursleys. He took a breath. "That's awful, but Harry has been locked in a cupboard his whole life." He said, a mixture of anger, confusion, and compassion in his voice. "So to him, it's probably no big deal." He continued, letting the anger overpower his voice. "So it would probably upset Harry, but not to that extent."

Dumbledore nodded, agreeing with him. He rubbed his temples. "I'm still working out the details. I'll investigate more. In the meantime, I don't want to interrupt your dinner." He said, pointing at the clock.

Arthur nodded, knowing this was his cue to leave. At this point his feelings felt like an unmixed potion; all the ingredients bumping into each other but never quiet mixing properly. He didn't know which one to follow. This boy was like a son to him. He felt anger rising at the Dursley's for locking him up like and animal, he felt remorse for not knowing where Harry was, he felt compassion towards the boy for what he had dealt with all summer, he felt guilty that he had not known, nor helped, and he also felt confused at the whole thing. "Sir." He started before leaving. When Dumbledore looked up at him, he went on. "Please, tell me if you find anything."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course."

Then he slammed the powder on the ground, and flooed away from Dumbledores office and back to his home.

**A/N: So now we know what's going on at the Weasley's. What do you think? Also, to clear up some confusion, this will not be slash nor a love story. It will have romance, but it'll be very minor and mostly canon. Also, I'd love to hear your thoughts. I'm getting lots of story alerts and favorite stories and I love that, but I really like to hear your opinions(: Review! v**

**P.S. I'm going to be disappearing for a little bit, so I won't be able to update every day like I have been.  
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